A Greenvale Christmas Tale
by Oillet
Summary: Two Greenvale residents and a certain Agent end up consequentially sharing a Christmas Eve together in the Greenvale Police station.
1. Chapter 1

**A Greenvale Christmas**

**Disclaimer: **All characters, locations, and goofy movie references belong to their respective owners. I claim nothing.  
**Warnings: **York being York. Grotesque murder story. Spoilers for one side mission and maybe for the ending in the author's note on the last chapter. Kinda York x Emily, but not really. In an AU world where the investigation was later in the year, because seeing Greenvale in Christmas time would have been awesome.

"Quite a show of festivities for a town in the midst of murder, isn't it, Zach?"

The small town glittered with Christmas lights, holly and mistletoe hung loyally over every door. It was quiet – for most were inside their houses, enjoying a nice familiar Christmas Eve ham.

Yet it would just so happen three particular people didn't have a family to share processed meat products with. A shame for sure, but it would come to be that they would all decide to awkwardly stray to the same place – the police station. And thus would begin Greenvale's own Extremely Awkward Christmas Tale.

"That's a…quite festive suit, Agent Morgan."

The man turned, adorned in a Christmas tree green suit, his undershirt a very vibrant red. What was most attention-grabbing was his tie – a cheery display of tangled Christmas lights. It wouldn't have been overtly distracting, if not for the fact it lit up, the rainbow display of lights causing York's face stoic face to look like a bag of skittles every few seconds.

"As an agent of the FBI, I pride myself on being ready for anything, Emily." A finger was lifted in her direction, shaken to indicate the man's point.

The blond sighed, hands on her hips. "Which I suppose includes light-up ties?" An intake of air, indicating she'd be getting an answer to that question, before she politely cut York off with a roll of her eyes. "That was a hypothetical question, Agent York…Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn't you be at your hotel?"

"Well, Polly left with Kaysen to visit Isaac and Isaiah. So the hotel was empty. I decided to come here and continue looking into the case."

"On _Christmas_?" The Deputy Sheriff repeated in disbelief.

"I could say the same of you, Emily. Why are you here?"

"Well-I-I was looking for you!" She snapped, "I thought you might be all alone, so I was going to invite you over for dinner- " Emily did her best to ignore the pained look that crossed York's face – "But you weren't at the hotel, so I thought to check here…I was being considerate, unlike some people."

"That was quite considerate – thank you, Emily." It was calm and polite, but York didn't seem particularly moved by the sentiment, nor aware to the implication of her last sentence. "Would you like to help Zach and I do some paper work?" He offered.

The blond scoffed – "What a kind offer for you to make, Agent York! Sure, why not!" She threw up her hands in exasperation, before rushing past the man into the police station.

"Even in the colder months Emily is as feisty as ever, Zach." The agent remarked, pulling the fingers away from his temple before calmly following the girl.

* * *

"Eggnog?"

"That sounds fine, Emily. I'll take some, thank you." The carton was grabbed from her hands, and, under the blonds' wide and slightly unbelieving gaze, poured into a mug with York's coffee.

A few months earlier she might have gawked and asked why he would do such an insane thing, but now she just shook her head, sighing as she took the beverage away. As she walked over to the small fridge in the lunchroom, York poured over the files strewn in front of him, coffee/eggnog concoction in hand as he appeared utterly focused.

Emily on the other hand plopped down in her seat, cheek on fist as she leaned against the table, left hand bringing a Santa-shaped cookie to her mouth. The huff she released raised green eyes for a moment before they flicked back down to the pictures scattered about the table.

"You know, that cookie reminds me…There was a serial killer once –" The redressed snack froze against her lips, blue eyes staring at the agent in a kind of wary attention – "He would take all his victim's organs and use them as Christmas decorations – quite creative too, wasn't he, Zach? The small and large intestines were tinsel and lights, of course, while things like eyes and kidneys were tree ornaments. Then he would stuff gift boxes in his gutted victims' stomachs and dress them in Santa suits, leaving the corpses for us to find –"

A hand was brought to her mouth, face a little green as the Santa cookie clinked back onto its patter, pushed away with the rest of the festively shaped deserts.

"-In the presents under his tree we found all the other vital organs, like livers, hearts, lungs… One box contained the movie Hannibal, ironically enough – Anthony Hopkins is an amazing actor though, don't you think, Zach-"

A door slam somewhere in the police station.

Emily sat up, "Did you hear that?"

"Perhaps it's Santa Claus, come to grace the police officers of Greenvale with gifts."

"Funny, Agent Morgan." The blond said wiping her palms on the red sweater she wore. "Come on, we better go see who it is."

**Author's note:** Guten Tag, meine Lieblings. So I wrote this entire story in like 20 minutes (which is why it's so crappy), under the influence of Christmas music. You may notice that it's very bare and bones - now, normally I seek to describe every little detail as poetically as possible when writing. Yet with this story, I didn't think it fit, so it's a very simple, mostly-dialogue kinda thing, because I feel that anyone who's ever played DP doesn't need to me to elaborate on character reactions. I don't know about you guys, but even I, who has to constantly go back to watch scenes from video games when reading fanfic because I can't remember what a location looks like, or what a character sounds like, remembers every aspect of Greenvale and can picture York, Emily and George's reactions perfectly in my head. They are quite remember-able characters, aren't they, Zach? And this fic is split up into chapter's just because I think that makes it easier to read, as they're small, humorous scenes, much like in the game. But mostly because having a chaptered fic makes me feel cool. And happy holidays, everyone!


	2. Chapter 2

"George!" Emily cried, peeking her head out of the lunchroom. The Sheriff stopped, rather stunned to see anybody in the otherwise quiet police station. Beside her a certain Agent also glanced out the door way, platter of cookies in hand.

"Oh, hello, George."

The sight of York seemed to tone down the cowboy hat wearing man's attitude to a begrudging respect. "Emily, York." He greeted, removing his scarf and setting it on one of the lobby chairs.

"We're just working on the case. Care to join us?"

"Sure, why not." The man said, air exhaling out of his nose as he headed for the doorway Emily had just disappeared through. York held out the platter as he approached.

"Cookie?" The Sheriff grabbed the last Santa, biting its head off as he moved to sit in on of the foldable chairs. York also returned to his seat, reaching for his coffee and frowning at the half-empty cup.

What followed next was an awkward ten minutes of silence – the sound of York's coffee slurping, papers being moved, and Emily's nails tapping on the desk being the only sounds audible.

A throat clearing. "You know, George, I was just telling Emily my own Christmas tale before you arrived-"

"I don't think that constitutes as a Christmas story, Agent York." She said, sighing.

"Well, it's all in the eye of the beholder, I suppose, Emily –"

There was a flicker, before the police station went entirely dark.

"The power went out."

"I see that, York." George said, standing up from his seat and looking around.

"Well, the snow was starting to pick up when we arrived." Emily said, sitting up.

"I'll get a flashlight." The Sheriff said, exiting the door.

"You know, that serial killer often turned off the power of the houses of the victims before he-"

"Agent York!"

* * *

"So, what do you think, Zach? Three or Five? It's vital. If we get this wrong…You're right. We've got two fives, best to save them. Three, Emily?"

"Go fish." She said, shaking her head with an almost amused smile.

"Another failure." York said, eyebrows pulling together, drawing from the deck of cards in front of them, flashlight shining brightly against the stack of cards.

"Any…fives, Agent York?" The blond asked.

"You're quite the master at this game, Emily. I'm impressed." York said, smirking at bit as he handed the cards over. "We always seem to lose this game, Zach."

"Yeah, I'm a natural born talent, I guess."

"Sure you don't wish to join us, George?"

"I'm fine over here, thanks." The sheriff said sighing, still biting the occasional cookie as he watched his teammates sit Indian style on the floor near the TV.

"Hopefully the power comes back on soon." Emily amended.

"Well, if you two are going to sit here playing card games I'll night, I think I'll spent some quality time with Reginald and Arnold." George said, hands on his knees as he lifted himself up, giving a grunt of exertion as he stood. "I'll be in my office if you need anything." He spoke, hand waving over his shoulder as he walked to the door to exit.

"Er, well, have a good time, George!" Emily called, hearing the door close.

"Not full of much Christmas cheer, is he, Emily?"

"It's not much fun being stuck at work on a holiday, Agent York."

"True, I suppose. Though I do wonder why his left his mother at home alone, on Christmas Eve."

"Mother?" Emily repeated in surprise.

"Yes. George's ill mother – he hasn't mentioned her to you?"

"Er, no – I thought he lived alone. I've never seen her."

"Hmm, how particular." The agent mused, giving a great deal of attention to his cards. "Any sixes?"

"No." Emily said. "Go fish."

A flicker of lights, and the power returned.

"Finally." Emily said, standing, York following suite. The blond wandered over to the windows, opening the blinds before her forehead pressed against the glass as she sighed. "Look at that weather – we're snowed in."

"How exciting. Perhaps we could build a George-themed snowman, Zach. Do you think the Sheriff would let me borrow his hat, Emily? We need something for the mustache of course. Liquorice, maybe…"

"I'm not sure he'd appreciate that, Agent York." She said, turning to face the taller man, "Well, now that the kitchen is up and running, I could make us a Christmas dinner, with whatever we've got in the fridge."

"What did George and I do to deserve such punishment, Emily?" He asked, though quickly silenced himself as he received another one of her arm-crossed glares.

"Very funny, Agent York. You're quite the comedian today." She said, huffing as she stormed for the door.

"We'd better go help her, Zach. To die of food poisoning on Christmas Eve would be quite the pity."

* * *

"Where'd you get that ham from anyway, Agent York?"

"I just found it lying around, Emily."

"'Lying around'?" She repeated with an odd look on her face, but received no answer as the agent crouched and slid the fully-decorated meet into the small oven the kitchen had.

"I still think we should have put vinegar on that." Emily said, leaning against the fridge.

"I'm not sure that's a normal ingredient to put on ham." York interjected, pouring himself some lukewarm coffee.

"Well, I don't recall you being a master chief either."

"Zach is quite good at cooking, I'll have you know."

"Oh, I believe you." Emily said, pressing start on the microwave, two cups of hot coco spinning as they began to be warmed. "We need some side dishes." The woman pondered, leaning against the corner as she tapped her nails against it. York himself took to tapping his chest as he considered it.

"Pickles?"

"_Pickles_?" Emily repeated incredulously.

**Author's note: **I often wonder how York can ever play card games or say an opinion without offending people if he's always saying it out loud to Zach. And I can't remember if there was ever an oven in the Greenvale Police Station's kitchen...but there is now.


	3. Chapter 3

"Food?" George said, standing in the doorway of the lunchroom looking rather stunned. "Did…Did Emily cook it?"

"What's that supposed to mean, George?"

"It was a joint effort." York said, "Perfectly environmentally safe." He added, slicing the meat as he loaded three plates. "Though I'm not sure it needed that much salt, Emily…"

"How else would it get any flavor?"

George pulled out his chair, sitting down as he removed his hat and set in on the table. "Doesn't look half bad." He agreed roughly, taking his plate from York and slapping some mash potatoes on it.

"Thank you, George." Emily agreed, though she was looking York in the eye pointedly as she said it. The agent shrugged helplessly.

The Sheriff looked up as his potatoes gave an oddly, salty crunch. "Are there…are there pickles in these?"

"It was to add texture!"

"We might've asked if George preferred his pickles in his potatoes or on the side first, Emily."

"You're the one who insisted we use them, Agent York."

"Well, it's …interesting." George said.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, before Emily coughed awkwardly.

"So… Since you're both here, I suppose it's a good time to give you your presents." She was met with two rather surprised looks.

The blond leaned down, picking up her bag as she pulled out two small packages. There were others, obviously intended for Thomas and the like when she saw them again.

George's was a watch. "Thank you, Emily." He said, sounding grateful. "I don't have your gift with me, though. I'll have to give it to you another time."

"That's okay, George." Emily said with a smile.

York's was a coffee cup, naturally. He was holding it up, inspecting it carefully. "Quite fine craftsmanship, right Zach? Hand painted. Something only a small town could provide." He mused, straitening up as he cut off his side conversation to face an expectant Emily. "Thank you, Emily. I'll drink out of it from now on."

"You're welcome, Agent York." Emily said, sounding a bit pleased with herself at his reaction.

"Now, for the gifts I brought you two." York said, walking over to the small tree set up near the TV and pulling three previously hidden packages out from under it, one left behind.

Both George and Emily gaffed in surprise – "You bought us gifts?" She said, astounded.

"I'm surprised, York." George agreed.

"Of course I did. What kind of Agent do you take me for?" He said handing Emily a large square present and a small boxed one. George received a longer, slimmer wrapped package.

The cowboy hat wearing Sheriff opened his first. "It's a tie…with deer on it." He said.

"Amazing, isn't it? I thought it would go nicely with your small town Sheriff look."

"Well, uh…Thank you, York. That was…considerate, of you." George seemed rather unsure of what to make of the whole thing. It was certainly one of the odder gifts he'd gotten.

"A cook book?" Emily gaped, "Agent York, what are you trying to say?"

"Well, you said you practiced cooking everyday – the recipes in this one are simpler –"

"Simpler?" York was almost frightened by Emily's ability to put her hands on her hips, even when sitting.

George was laughing, holding his stomach as Emily bickered and York continued to keep his cool composition. He stood, taking all the plates to the kitchen. "I'll go wash these." He said, chuckling. The deputy sheriff and the FBI agent didn't seem to notice his exit.

* * *

Emily shrugged on her coat, still looking rather flustered over the earlier occurrence. York was as composed as ever as he waited patiently for her.

"You two have a safe drive home." George said, hands in his pockets as he watched the two get ready to leave. The dishes had been washed, and the clock now read eight o' clock. "I'm going to stay here to finish up a few things. I'll lock the station up."

"Thank you, George. You have a good Christmas Eve." She said, her words receiving a nod of agreement from York as the sheriff disappeared down the hallway to his office.

"Still angry, Emily?" York asked kindly, handing Emily her mittens.

"I wasn't angry." Emily said, huffing at York's raised eyebrow, "I was…offended."

"My apologies."

"You're forgiven." The blond said, giving him York a suspicious look, as if his apology posed some type of threat. When she was met with a normal, stoic York face, she sighed. "I can't believe you bought me a cook book for Christmas, Agent York."

"I bought you two gifts, Emily." He reminded politely.

Emily blinked in surprise, then remembrance, reaching in her coat pocket to pull out the smaller package. Opening it, she looked upon a small black box. Inside was a bracelet, its glass beads alternating between white and teal, the strap brown. She stared at it for a moment, before touching her neck in reflex, to the matching necklace hidden under her scarf. "Oh…" She said, looking a little shocked. She hadn't been aware York was so observant. "Um, thank you, Agent York." Her words were a little halting, "And all I got you was a stupid coffee mug." A hand pressed to her forehead in exasperation.

"I like my gift, Emily. Coffee is a vital investigation tool, as are the cups it's drunk from."

Emily flipped her wrist, trying to clasp the bracelet to no avail. Her eyes widened a little in shock as York reached down and carefully did it for her. "Thanks." She slipped the small box back into her pocket, rolling her coat sleeve back down as York pulled on his gloves.

"All ready?" She nodded, and York leaned towards the door, Emily close behind.

"Um…" The blond said, the agent glanced back in expectancy. "Mistletoe." She said, pointing up to the little wad of leaves hung above the doorway, no doubt put there by Thomas. She crossed her arms and coughed a little, awkwardly. "It's a...tradition, you know."

The agent straightened, "Not to worry, Emily. I wouldn't force you into anything because of some silly old 'tradition'." He said, oblivious as he opened the door and went outside.

"Of course you wouldn't." Emily groaned helplessly, sighing as she followed him out. She headed towards the parking lot before a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Not so fast, Emily."

She blinked, turning towards the Agent as she waited for an explanation.

"We've got a snowman to build."

Inside, George looked around his desk in wondering, after discovering the lunchroom empty of the item he was looking for. "Where in the hell is my hat?" He asked himself, scratching his bare head in wonder.

**Author's note:** Yes, I know, I totally killed the perfect moment for York x Emily fluff there at the mistletoe part. But admit it, York being completely dense and just waving it off is totally something he would do, unfortunately for Emily. I must say, they're one of my favorite, if not the favorite, of my videogame couples now. Their chemistry is really great. I love Emily's quick temper combined with York's nonchalant behavior. And the fact that it's portrayed so maturely in game. Maybe someday I'll stop being lazy and write a real fic for them. Anyway, thanks for reading!


End file.
